


to satisfy the soul with impolite affections

by rockcandyshrike



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Porn, SOMETIMES THEY LOVINGLY FUCK IN REALLY KINKY WAYS, THEY LOVE EACH OTHER AND THEY FUCK, it's just porn people, they're both verse switches bc i say so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-01-16 06:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21266615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockcandyshrike/pseuds/rockcandyshrike
Summary: Chirrut/Baze smut ficlets written for Kinktober. Most tags are in the chapter titles/notes bc I hate it when ppl attach an entire novel of tags to their fics.---*bangs pots and pans together* COME GET Y'ALL HORNY JUICE





	1. Deepthroating

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100% unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own, please roast me if you find anything egregious. Title is a riff of a Jane Austen quote. This will be updated to at least 31 chapters but probs more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend they got off Scarif with minimal injuries, semi-public oral sex

Chirrut lets out a triumphant laugh when Bodhi narrowly shoots through the shield-gate before punching Rogue One into hyperdrive. The rebels raise a raucous cheer, yelling and hugging and slapping each others’ backs. No one notices or cares when Baze drops his cannon and grabs Chirrut by the belt to haul him to the rear cabin. The thrill of victory roars like a star dragon in his blood and though they both stink to the cosmos of sweat, blood and who knows what else, Chirrut goes willingly when Baze manhandles him behind a bulkhead that barely separates them from the rest of the jubilant survivors.

“Baz—” he says, but his husband cuts him off with a searing third-degree kiss that burns out everything in his head except instinctual, consuming _need. _He claws down Baze’s back to grope his ass, moaning at the sting of iron when Baze bites his plush lower lip.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again, Chirrut,” Baze growls and Chirrut can only nod dumbly as Baze nearly rips his robes open to get at his skin with his ravenous mouth.

Chirrut is by no means a young man anymore, but the adrenaline rocketing through his veins and his husband exploiting each and every one of his weak spots quickly works him up to full hardness. He gasps high and sharp the moment Baze pulls his cock out of his pants; Baze muffles him with a hand over his mouth even as he spits into the other to pump Chirrut at a relentless speed that makes him cry out into his Baze’s palm.

Baze drags his teeth up Chirrut’s throat, whispers into his ear, “Be quiet, there are people on the other side.”

Baze drops to his right knee, the armored pad dulling the impact, and swallows Chirrut down whole without a lick of hesitation or consideration for Chirrut’s poor unprepared nerves. He pins Chirrut’s hips to the wall with his hands, digging his nails in so red crescents form. Chirrut bites his arm through his sleeve to quiet his whines, but Baze’s primal possessiveness has already razed him down into a writhing mess. He buries a hand in Baze’s shaggy, sweat-matted mane and does his best to ride out the storm.

Baze fucks his throat on Chirrut’s cock gracelessly, fast and sloppy with saliva dripping into his beard. It’s ironic he’d shushed Chirrut because anyone with keen ears can no doubt hear the filthy sounds of wet suction and his husband groaning low whenever Chirrut bottoms out in his throat.

In a matter of minutes Chirrut is riding right on the knife's edge of a mind-shattering orgasm. He tugs on Baze’s hair to signal how close he is to coming and Baze doubles down on his efforts. His tongue lashes at the underside of his cock and a hand comes up to squeeze his balls on just the right side of pain; however, it isn’t until Baze lets his go of his hip to tickle at the sensitive spot behind his left knee that he yelps and doubles over, coming so hard he almost goes blind twice over. Baze works his throat around him as his cock jerks in his mouth and Chirrut swears out the entire Old Jedhan pantheon in between helpless giggles as his husband drains him dry. Finally, Baze pulls off of his cock to nuzzle at his belly as he catches his breath. Chirrut cups his face with both hands and Baze gives a great, big sigh of soul-deep satisfaction.

Someone on the other side of the bulkhead wolf-whistles.

The ship is filled with laughter and congratulations. Chirrut lets his head fall back against the wall, a battle and fuck-high smile on his face. Baze grumbles under his breath as he fixes Chirrut’s robes back into place, but there’s a distinct amused undertone to it. Chirrut reaches for Baze’s fly, but his husband bats his hand away.

“What about you?” Chirrut asks, breathing still out of joint.

“Later,” he rumbles, kissing the taste of his seed into Chirrut’s mouth, “When we have some actual privacy so I can fold you in half.”

The ship can’t fly fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 699 words. nice


	2. Medical Play/Ass Worship/Begging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roleplay, latex gloves, anal fingering, speculum (yeah you read that right), a line or two of degrading dirty talk

“Are you sexually active?”

“Y-yes,” Baze responds and moans when Chirrut screws his gloved fingers in deeper.

“Yes?” Chirrut questions.

A tremor runs through his body and Baze meekly answers, “Yes, doctor.”

His face burns with equal parts embarrassment and arousal at the situation; it’s worth it when Chirrut hooks his fingers hard against his prostate. Baze moans like it’s being pulled out of him, half-stifled by the pillow he’s hugging to his chest like a life preserver. He’d been skeptical when his husband suggested this silly little game with the box of outdated medical equipment Denic had pawned off on them, but something about Chirrut acting the stern, cold medical professional is turning him on like a Z8 repulsor engine.

Chirrut pulls his fingers out to squirt more sterile lubricating gel directly onto his hole and Baze hisses at how cold it is. The hiss melts into a loud, strangled groan when Chirrut shoves three fingers into his ass. Baze readjusts his knees so he can raise his ass higher, his cock hanging red, swollen, and ignored between his legs.

“How many sexual partners have you had?” Chirrut asks, his voice brusque and aloof. The only crack in his near-flawless composure is the way his other hand rubs up and down the side of Baze’s left thigh.

The unusual sensation of the latex gloves distracts Baze enough that he’s caught off guard when Chirrut bites the swell of his ass with enough force to jolt his entire system. He cries out and Chirrut spreads his fingers wide.

“I said, how many sexual partners have you had?” Chirrut repeats crisply.

“Just one,” Baze pants out, “Doctor.”

“Just one? With this ass?,” Chirrut’s other hand moves up to roam across Baze’s ass, squeezing and appreciating how thick he is. “I don’t believe you. This is an ass made for breeding. You must have dozens of horny cocks lined up to plow you like a slut everyday.”

The abrupt obscenity knocks the breath out of him like a knee to the solar plexus. Baze keens as he clamps down on Chirrut’s fingers, his cock leaking precum onto the sheets.

Chirrut clicks his tongue. “Your ass is impressively tight though, I bet you could milk a man’s soul out of him with this ass. I’ll have to get the rectal speculum.”

Baze quivers and does his best to hold still while his husband grabs the speculum. He cranes his head around to watch Chirrut rub more sterile lubricating gel onto the metal instrument. The light glints along the severe-looking tool and Baze’s insides clench with apprehension, but also exquisite anticipation.

Chirrut sets the tip of the speculum against his hole. Baze holds his breath, eager for the stretch.

It doesn’t come. Chirrut taps the speculum lightly against his hole and Baze whines with frustration.

“Do I have your consent to insert the rectal speculum?” Chirrut says, as if Baze isn’t obviously desperate for more.

“Yes,” Baze whispers, his mouth dry as bone.

“What was that? You’ll have to speak up.”

His throat clicks when he swallows. “Yes...doctor.”

“Speak up,” Chirrut commands.

“Yes, please, Chirrut please,” he begs and his breathing hitches on a sob when Chirrut slides it home.

“There we go,” Chirrut growls as he leans in to lick and suck all over Baze’s ass, the passion of a rut-crazed mate suddenly subsuming the doctor persona. “There we go. Is this what you need, my love? Something long and hard to fill you up?"

Baze wails as the speculum is twisted wider. 

"Don’t worry, we’re just getting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU FORGET THIS WAS KINKTOBER FICLETS? BECAUSE BELIEVE YOU ME THINGS ARE GOING TO GET FUCKY


	3. Temperature Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> temple era, icejob, hot wet toweljob, late teens/early 20s aged

It began with, “I want to try something.”

Baze had been perturbed when Chirrut first raised the idea, but after Chirrut wrapped his arms around his ample waist and cuddled into his chest with a soft, “Please, my dear...”

Well, Baze may be the most devoted Guardian-to-be, but he’s also the most soft-hearted. He’d crumpled like wet tissue paper.

So now Chirrut is sitting naked in his equally naked lover’s lap with a moist hot towel in one hand and an ice cube in the other. There’s a cup of hot water and a cup of ice cubes next to him in the hollow carved out of the wall that serves as their nightstand if he needs to replenish either.

Second thoughts are being had.

“Chirrut, I’m uncertain about this.” Baze says, fingers clenching and unclenching around Chirrut’s knees.

Chirrut presses a kiss to Baze’s forehead, his cheeks, and his nose, before leaning back with a brilliant smile. “We can stop anytime you want, my heart. And there’s no harm in trying.”

There’s a moment of internal struggle, but after a minute Baze huffs out a tiny sigh and says, “Alright.”

“I’ll start with my bare hands, relax,” Chirrut soothes as he places the hot towel and the ice cube back into their respective cups. He scoots forward so he can take his beloved’s mouth in a sweet yet hungry kiss, wrapping his hot hand around Baze’s cock. Baze moans into his mouth and Chirrut takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Baze’s, nearly vibrating with joy at his lover’s trust and submission. He strokes Baze's cock steadily, twisting his wrist on every upstroke while he kisses down his neck to bite a hickey onto the knob of his collarbone.

“Ah, Chirrut, that’ll mark,” Baze grunts.

Chirrut snickers and bites another hickey onto Baze's other collarbone. "Oh no, what a terrible thing for me to leave a reminder of my affection where people _can't _see."

"They're tender afterwards, you ass," Baze grumbles, "and they're distracting for _me._" 

Chirrut snickers some more, smearing kisses down Baze's chest to suck on one of his nipples. Baze shivers when Chirrut's hot hand moves down to gently play with his balls, his eyes fluttering closed with bliss. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Chirrut takes his cock into his cold hand. 

"Fuck!" he shouts, "Warn me before you do that."

Chirrut laughs and smooches Baze on the jaw. "The surprise is half the fun."

"Nnnngh," Baze half-protests, but he uses all his zawa-shimo training to hold still as Chirrut plays with his body like a lithoharp, alternating hands unpredictably and biting more hickeys across his chest.

Chirrut waits for the moment where Baze acclimates to his hands so he can ask, "Is it alright if we turn things up a notch, Baze?"

"Yeah," Baze pants, voice gone deliciously hoarse.

Chirrut grabs the moist hot towel and an ice cube. He rubs the hot towel over Baze's neck and shoulders repetitively, coaxing a deep sound that could best be described as a purr from his chest. He's not as startled when Chirrut applies the tip of the ice cube to his nipple, but he still groans at the intense sensation. The noises makes Chirrut shudder all the way to his toes. By the Force, the way Baze's muscles flex under his hands, the blushing tips of his prominent ears…every reaction he can wring out of his beloved is simultaneously so endearing and so fucking _hot._

Chirrut licks his lips, eyes greedily watching Baze's face while he draws random shapes on his torso with the ice cube, before running it delicately down the length of his cock. Baze gasps like he's been shot and Chirrut pounces on the sound with his mouth.

"Is that good, my sweet?" he croons, drunk on adoration.

"Yes, Chirrut," Baze groans. "Keep going."

Chirrut grins as he wraps both hands around his cock. 

"I intend to."


	4. Spanking/Mirror Sex/Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spanking with a belt, anal sex, dom/sub dynamic

Chirrut bites his lip and whines borderline hysterically at the pain that shoots through his asscheeks, but he bounces on Baze's cock harder than ever when Baze slaps his ass with the belt again.

He's been fucking himself on Baze's cock for what must be an hour now, and though he gasps for breath like a rabbit being chased by wolves, he hasn't complained once. It fills Baze with love and admiration for his husband, mixed with a pitch-black desire to see how far he can push Chirrut before he breaks. He presses a kiss to Chirrut’s sweaty nape and leans back to lounge against their pillows.

Baze puts down the belt to grip Chirrut's deep pink ass with both hands, spreading his cheeks wide to watch Chirrut's puffy and abused hole engulf his cock over and over. Chirrut's back is arched in a gorgeous curve, muscles taut and dangerous and beautiful as his lightbow. Baze sets his thumbs against Chirrut’s raw, stretched-out rim and pulls it even wider just so he can savor the way Chirrut’s arms buckle as they brace against Baze’s knees. He tsks thrice, spanking Chirrut’s ass with the full of his palm as he scolds, “Fix your posture.” But it’s difficult for him to maintain his disaffected facade when Chirrut keens so intoxicatingly. He traces a finger around the angry dark red bruises covering Chirrut’s ass and his cock twitches inside Chirrut at the thought of how they’ll look in the morning. He’s sure the purple and blue will look breathtaking in contrast to Chirrut’s skin lit up gold by the sun.

Baze glances at the mirror in the corner of the room angled towards them. He placed it there earlier to ensure he gets a perfect view of Chirrut’s face even as he’s turned away from him. His foresight pays off big time because right now the completely fucked-out-of-this-plane-of-existence expression Chirrut is wearing is the loveliest thing he’s ever seen. A tiny, swoon of a sigh slips out of him without notice. No matter how they have sex, Baze has always loved it best when he can see the pleasure washing across his husband’s face.

Chirrut continues to ride his cock—though the smooth rolls of his hips are getting jerkier and jerkier, the sound of it slick and vulgar in their little rented rooms. Chirrut’s arms buckle again, but this time Baze grunts and sits up so he can grab under his husband’s thighs and lift, shifting their position til they’re pressed chest to back. Chirrut scrambles for grip, groaning at the loss of control and Baze can’t resist licking up the sweat pouring down Chirrut’s neck before nuzzling behind his ear, his beard scraping fuzzy yet prickly against the sensitive spot.

Chirrut is quivering like a plucked string, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Baze, Baze, oh my gods,” he gasps out, voice on the verge of breaking into full blown sobs. “Come, let me come.”

Baze glances at the mirror again, enjoying the way Chirrut’s abs ripple as his husband fights down the urge to come without permission.

“Hmm,” he rumbles, kissing away a tear sliding down Chirrut’s flushed cheek. “Not yet.”


	5. Sadism/Masochism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> temple era, clothespins, late teens/early 20s aged

Originally they were going to return the clothespins to the laundry room after they were done with them, but Chirrut thinks they’re better off keeping them when Baze finishes laying down a line of clips up his inner right thigh. Chirrut exhales hard at the stinging all over his body, but he doesn’t move an inch, on his knees with his hands firmly behind his head. It hurts, but he wouldn't trade the way it makes his nerves sing for the world. Baze rewards him with a gentle kiss, sucking delicately on first his upper lip and then his lower lip. Chirrut’s spine stays upright as the Temple, but his heart melts like a bonbon left in the sun.

“You’re doing so well,” Baze murmurs, almost to himself as he gathers up a pinch of skin on Chirrut’s inner left thigh. He places another clothespin and Chirrut breathes out slow, keeping up the _ajaagsansra_ pattern they learned last month so he doesn’t flinch and mess up Baze’s focus. The clothespins on his nipples and outlining the hard definition of his abs flap a little at every inhale and exhale, but Chirrut has sunken into that quiet, placid space in the back of his mind. A space akin to when he meditates, floaty yet centered at the same time, but one he only enters when he plays these games with Baze—a vulnerable, trusting state that overlaps with being one with the Force. Baze’s aura feels warm and golden right now, with a streak of wicked, fiendish crimson that excites Chirrut immensely.

“That’s the 30th clip,” Baze says, pleased as can be when he finishes laying down a line of clips up his inner left thigh. “How do you feel, love?”

Chirrut sighs, soft and heated, “Good.”

“You’re so pretty like this, Chirrut,” Baze coos low and dark. “Holding still for me. You never sit this still during noonday prayer."

"I usually don't have clothespins pinching all over my body during noonday prayer," Chirrut can't help but joke and he smiles at Baze's chuckle. 

"You're as mouthy as ever though," Baze smirks. He reaches up and tugs Chirrut's lower lip out in a pout. Chirrut holds his breath when he hears Baze select another clip with his other hand, which makes him lose his rhythm; he pants erratically as Baze carefully places a clothespin in the center of his pink, kiss-swollen lip. Baze pulls on the clip a smidgen and Chirrut blushes down to his chest when he immediately drools. 

"There," Baze says contentedly, "That'll keep you quiet. Now let's go up to 50 clips."


	6. Cock Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trans!Baze who got a Space Phalloplasty Surgery. because I said so (there'll be more trans Chirrut or Baze fics down the road with diff body configs)

After the six weeks of healing were up, Chirrut pushed him flat on the bed and practically tore his pants off to get at Baze’s new cock.

“Chirrut, wait, wait, there’s no need to rush,” Baze laughs helplessly, giddy with both his own euphoria combined with Chirrut’s contagious delight.

“6 weeks, Baze, I’ve had to wait 6 entire _weeks _to get my mouth on you.” Chirrut half-growls, shoving his face into Baze’s crotch to breath in a deep whiff of Baze’s musk. A guttural moan spills out of his mouth and he shoves his face in closer.

“It’s not going anywhere,” Baze assures him, assures himself. He wraps his hands around his very own thick, hardening shaft and strokes it with wonder. “All of this is here to stay...and that’s not true, you ate me out yesterday, Chirrut.”

“That’s not the same thing at all and you know it, Baze.”

“Show me,” Baze husks, grabbing his lover by his just long enough hair to drag his mouth up. He traces the tip of his cock temptingly across Chirrut’s lips. “Show me how much you want my cock.”

Chirrut nuzzles his cock like it's his (actually Baze's) favorite pillow, mouthing up the sides of the shaft before carefully sucking the foreskin between his lips. Baze throws his head back with a groan that cracks straight down the middle at how astonishingly _wonderful _it feels. Chirrut hums happily, rearing his head back so the foreskin slips out of his lips with a filthy little _pop. _He pulls it down slowly, exposing the flushed glans, and slavers affection all over the head with long, wet swirling licks. His other hand pumps the base of his cock, squeezing around where Baze's natal anatomy is buried and Baze feels like a hypergiant blue star is burning through his skin.

"I love you," he blurts out, unintentional yet heartfelt. 

Chirrut's shiny, heart-bowed lips curve into a smile. "I love you too." His smile flashes like a comet into a predatory grin. "And I love your big,”—_suckle_—“long,”—_nibble_—“fat,”—_slurp_—"sexy cock.”

Chirrut swallows down half of his cock, only stopping when he gags and Baze pushes him off by his forehead with a worried, “Chirrut!”

Chirrut takes in a huge gulp of air and rasps out, “Force, you taste so good, I can’t wait for you to fuck me with all of this. I want every single inch of your cock in my ass, you’re going to fill me up til I can feel you in the back of my throat.”

Baze feels his brain melt out of his ears but he couldn’t care less. He knows Chirrut is mostly saying this for his benefit, but he also knows Chirrut means every word and it gets him hotter than he’s ever felt before. He caresses Chirrut’s face reverently and his beloved leans into it even as he slaps Baze’s cock against his lolling tongue.

“We’ll have to work our way up to that,” Baze says, so dazed by arousal it feel like their very first time. “Right now, I don’t think you can even take all of my cock in your mouth.”

Chirrut grins like a cliff beckoning him to jump, “Is that a challenge?”

Baze grins back fondly, “Are you up for it?”

Chirrut scoffs, “Of course I am.” and swallows him down once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (He wasn't. But he was the next time!)


	7. Aphrodisiacs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sex "pollen", outdoor sex, frottage, anal fingering, voyeurism and commentary from the rest of Rogue One

Of all the members of Rogue One to get dosed by an aerosol canister of super illegal dorintamide compound, at least it’s the happily married ones.

Not that Baze appreciates that thought. Not that he’s having any thoughts other than getting Chirrut naked _right fucking now_ and riding his cock until they both pass out. And then waking up to do it again, and again, and again. Any way and every way til the fuckmadness in his blood burns away. They're still standing, but just barely, the tree at his back supporting him as he jerks Chirrut closer by the hips, tearing off his sash and humping his husband shamelessly.

Chirrut moans, or at least tries to since he’s muffled by Baze shoving his tongue down his throat. He unlatches Baze’s chest armor and throws it away like it insulted his mother, before literally ripping his Rebel-issued shirt open, the sound of seams popping filling his ears like heavenly trumpets. His hands immediately latch onto Baze’s pecs, squeezing them and pulling on his nipples almost violently. Baze howls into his mouth and Chirrut thinks that if he can’t get his hands on Baze’s cock within the next Force-blasted minute he is going to turn to the Dark side.

(“Hey, when do you think it’ll wear off?”)

“Need you, need you so bad, Chirrut,” Baze slurs deliriously into his shoulder, leaving lovebites everywhere.

“Get this off,” Chirrut snarls and tugs haphazardly at his husband’s belt, uncoordinated and shaking with bestial lust as the drug takes over his mind. “It’s a crime you’re still wearing clothes.”

Baze loses his footing and they tumble to the ground in a heap, but neither seem to care as they furiously grind against each other, both groaning loud enough to scare off all the local fauna.

(“I don’t know, probably a few hours.”

“Approximately six according to my estimates.”)

“Fuck me,” Chirrut roars as he flings his clothes off, his voice more animal than man.

Baze rolls them over in half a blink, kicking his pants into the underbrush and using both hands to grab Chirrut’s ass and yank him into the cradle of his hips, thrusting his cock against Chirrut’s to chase that electrical friction their bodies are screaming for.

(“What should we do? They’re outside and..._by the stars, I’ve never seen a person bend like that before._”)

Crossing his ankles behind Baze’s neck, Chirrut rakes lines into his husband’s back—the sting of his nails breaking skin stokes the fire in Baze’s bones high enough to scorch the sun. Baze retaliates by sucking on his finger til it’s dripping with spit, before fucking it into Chirrut’s roiling hot and greedy hole. Experience, zama-shiwo mastery and chemical arousal lets it slip in easily and Chirrut cries out like he’s reached nirvana.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, my love, yes!” he chants, grabbing Baze by the ears to crush their lips together. Baze curses and presses their foreheads together as they race towards orgasm together.

(“I think all we can do is set up camp here. We’ll pitch a tent over them, I doubt they’ll notice.”)

Chirrut fists their cocks together in one hand and pumps faster than Baze’s eyes can roll back in ecstasy, his hand blurring until they both lock up, bodies frozen and closer than sea and the shore as they come for a long, drawn-out moment.

They pause for a breath.

A tender kiss.

And then they start in on round two.

(“Pitch a tent, you say?”

“Shut up.”)


	8. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chirrut gets a nosebleed while riding Baze and refuses to stop bc he's a gremlin; Baze is into it much to his chagrin

In retrospect, it was a poor idea to tumble straight into bed without visiting the infirmary first, but neither had any restraint left after their private sparring session had veered wildly into the erotic—only Master Futil's hemming and hawing had prevented them from fornicating smack dab in the middle of the fighting ring. Now, Chirrut is gripping tantalizingly tight around his cock, head tilted back on a breathy moan as it snuggles up against all the right nerves. Baze takes one of his lover's hands resting on his chest and kisses his bruised knuckles sweetly; it almost knocks Chirrut out like a hammerblow when he sucks his fingers into his mouth, tongue curling lascivious and deadly.

"Oh, fuck, yes, this is exactly what I needed, I'd sit on your cock everyday if I had my way," he swears with a worshipful voice. "My Baze, you're so good to me."

Baze is so transfixed watching Chirrut slide up and down his cock, he doesn't notice Chirrut has a nosebleed til a few drops land on his belly. He snaps his head up in horror as blood flows freely from his lover's nose; Chirrut doesn't even pause, simply wipes his nose with his arm and continues riding Baze like a prize stud, blood smearing across his cheek.

"Chirrut!” Baze squawks.

"What? A little spontaneous nosebleed isn't worth stopping over. We've had sex with worse injuries." Chirrut reasons unreasonably. "Our hearts and bodies are already melded, what does it matter if our blood is too?”

“Chirrut, you’re disgusting.”

“But I’m _your _disgusting,” Chirrut beams and fails to wink, debonair as a tooka with its head stuck in a jar.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Baze splutters, trying to hold down his laughter and not doing a very good job of it. He can scarcely believe he hasn’t thrown him out of bed yet. He can’t even fathom that he’s going to marry him in three months. He must be punch-drunk.

(Everybody knows he’s plain old love-drunk. Chirrut most of all.)

Chirrut curls over Baze to lay a big, wet, smacking kiss on his mouth and cackles at his grimace of disgust.

“Did your mama raise a quitter, Baze Malbus?” he gibes with a feral grin.

Baze growls and surges forward to pin Chirrut on his back. “No, no she did not.”

Baze makes a note in his head to wash the sheets extra carefully later as his fiancée pulls him into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're disappointed it's not vampires, i'm sorry to tell you this, but tho i am a monsterfucker, vampires are boring (FITE ME) but don't worry there's monsterfucking down the road


	9. Titfucking/Muscles/Bondage/Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all the above + cum facial

Ever since the Empire arrived, not much makes Baze happy anymore—but getting on his knees dressed in pretty lingerie and letting Chirrut fuck his cleavage still works like a charm.

Baze is wearing a matched set positively exploding with ruffles and scalloped lace, pearlescent beads stringing the bountiful cups, and adorned with flowers and bows made of the sheerest silk. A gaudy pink confectionery of a bra paired with panties stretched to their limit across his wide ass, turning damp and sticky where Baze's cock is tenting the front.

"Mmm, you're so lovely like this, my darling. Handsome and strong and dolled up just for me," Chirrut praises as he thrusts between Baze's pecs, petting through Baze's shaggy mane with a heavy, grounding touch. His eyes are half-lidded with pleasure, and liquid heat pools in the pit of Baze's belly when his husband smirks down at him licentiously. He clenches his fists behind his back, veins jumping in his forearms as he’s held back from touching Chirrut by the industrial-strength imperial cuffs around his wrists (which Chirrut had unabashedly stolen from a Stormtrooper). Baze whines beseechingly; for what he’s not quite sure, but any more teasing is going to drive him insane. Chirrut cradles his face and coos, gentle yet possessive.

“My Baze, you’ll scoff when I say this, but you are an absolute vision. You steal my breath away.”

Baze does indeed scoff, but on the inside he preens like a saphir-bird and pushes further into Chirrut’s hands.

“You can speed things up a little,” he huffs, impatience leaking into his voice.

"Hush, I’m the one setting the pace tonight. Now flex for me, my star," Chirrut commands, regal and arrogant, while reaching down to squish his tits together, groping him through satin with rough, covetous hands, flesh spilling out over the cups of his frilly bra.

Baze shudders as he complies, straining his pecs to give Chirrut more to fuck and claim. His muscles may not be as sharply-defined as Chirrut’s, but his husband is obsessed to the point of distraction with them. It feels damn good to watch Chirrut fall to pieces above him, moaning with his eyes screwed tight, and it _almost_ makes up for how badly he needs to touch his cock. He struggles with the binders once more, but they remain unmoved.

Chirrut grunts and pulls out of his cleavage, stroking his cock feverishly. “Baze, close your eyes.”

“Chirrut, if you come on my bra, I’m going to be angry,” Baze warns, “This thing is a nightmare to hand wash.”

Chirrut snorts, the way Baze does when he can’t believe they’re actually married. “Then tilt your head back.”

Baze does and gives a tiny happy hum when warm stripes of cum splatter across his face.

“There,” Chirrut sighs, sated to his core. “Pretty as a picture.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this is a prompt combo, i'm quite proud of this one :)


	10. Hair-pulling/Bond (Telepathic or Empathic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anal sex, unreasonable refractory period for men in their 50s but shut up i do what i want + my hc is that Guardian of the Whills are basically supersoldiers

It’s not often Baze and Chirrut have the time to indulge like this, spending all day in bed with the Force singing between them, kyber-bright and joyous, but Rebel Alliance mandated rest days are a splendid thing. They’ve already made love once, exchanging sweet kisses and endearments the whole time, but for the second round, Chirrut is railing him like there’s no tomorrow.

Chirrut yanks cruelly on Baze’s hair and groans in time with his husband as the sparks of pain and pleasure loop back into him through their Force bond. An insistent nudge in his mind tells him to do it again and he does so with glee, rolling his hips adamantly to grind the head of his cock against Baze’s prostate at the same time. Baze cries out and his hands claw at the sheets uselessly. Chirrut rubs a soothing hand down his flank, sending love and affection and _“I am going to fuck you til you scream for mercy.” _back through their bond.

Baze trembles like a leaf, but spreads his legs wider, and that shoots a bolt of lust through them both. Chirrut readjusts his grip on Baze’s sweat-soaked hair and rides his ass like he’s vying for the Coruscanti Triple Crown. He thrusts hard into Baze’s velvet soft, leaking hole, fucking the cum inside of his husband into a frothy mess as he spanks his ass so he can feel it jiggle around him. Baze gurgles like he’s been shot, cock dripping nonstop onto the bed; he’s incapable of sending words through their bond anymore, utterly reduced to animal instinct.

Chirrut can feel his balls tightening, the impending climax tickling at the base of his spine. He pounds Baze faster and faster, keeping up the breakneck pace until Baze finally hollers to the ceiling and comes—it slams through their Force bond with so much power that Chirrut nearly blacks out, his own orgasm practically an afterthought as he spills inside Baze, walls spasming wildly around his cock. They collapse together, gasping for air in counterpoint. Gradually, their breathing and their hearts sync up once more and Baze shoves him through their Force bond to get off. Chirrut rolls off him with a pitiful moan.

Baze grunts at him, the “Don’t look to me for sympathy.” grunt, before burying his face into the pillow. His stomach pipes up angrily and Chirrut snickers at him, moving his jellified body enough to sit up.

“Are you going to pass out immediately, or can I convince you to eat a snack before you do,” Chirrut asks.

A considering hum vibrates through their Force bond.

Chirrut gets out of bed and raises his arms to stretch luxuriously. He bends down to touch his toes; he can feel Baze’s eyes zero in on his ass like lasers. Chirrut throws a leer over his shoulder at his recumbent husband as he slaps his own ass.

“After all, you’ll have to get your strength up if you want to take your turn for round three.”


	11. Scissoring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lesbian!AU bc i wanted to write lesbian porn sue me, i use the word cunt instead of pussy bc pussy sounds juvenile to me

“Chirrut, how is this supposed to work?”

Chirrut shrugs out of her training shirt and chirps, “I have no idea, but it sounds like fun!”

“It sounds like something made up for holoporn," Baze points out dryly, straddling Chirrut’s lean form on the bed, already divested of her acolyte robes. She grunts as Chirrut’s clever hands migrate from her generous hips to her breasts, biting her lip when she tweaks both nipples.

"True, but it wouldn't be so popular if it was impossible," Chirrut says. There is a kernel of logic to her beloved’s statement, but it isn't very convincing; nonetheless, Baze finds herself going along with it as her fingers walk up Chirrut's toned, sun-warm body. To be honest, she’s more than a bit curious herself.

"And besides, everything feels good when I do it with you," Chirrut sighs under her hands, indolent and honeyed. Her milky blue eyes lit up like thermite by the afternoon sun streaming through their window. Baze's heart wells up with overwhelming love and fondness for her best friend, her favorite person in the whole galaxy. Baze’s thighs press together as her panties get uncomfortably wet, cunt already slick and eager from their earlier foreplay. She tells Chirrut to stop squirming so much so she can take off their underwear, but that spurs Chirrut into squirming even more, half from horny enthusiasm and half to be a little shit.

"Stop it," Baze grouses, struggling with the ties of Chirrut’s loincloth. Chirrut makes obnoxious kissy noises at her and Baze almost gives up in favor of silencing her lover with her mouth, but finally she succeeds in getting them both fully naked. Baze pauses, stumped as to what to do next. Normally they would progress to fingering or eating each other out, but that would betray the entire point of this endeavor. From her current position their cunts are misaligned unless she leans back, but she dislikes the idea of being so far apart; sitting in between Chirrut’s legs would make it similarly unfeasible.

“Baaaaze,” Chirrut whines, snapping her hips up. The glancing friction against her clit drags a stuttering groan out of Baze’s throat and she doubles down on her determination to make this work.

She shuffles back and Chirrut whines louder. “Wait, wait one second, Chirrut,” she says as she rearranges her legs to straddle one of Chirrut’s corded thighs, her right leg slotting between Chirrut’s. She gives a breathy “O-oh!” when her beloved leans up on one elbow to grab her ass and squeeze it like a stress toy. Considering the lines marring Chirrut’s brow, that may be more accurate than she thinks.

“Baze, come _on_,” Chirrut pouts and Baze can’t help but laugh at her. Chirrut pouts harder.

Baze slips her hand under Chirrut’s left knee and gently thumbs a pressure point that draws a sigh from her lips. “Hang on Chirrut, let me figure this out.” Chirrut makes a surprised noise when her leg is hoisted up over Baze’s shoulder, but she’s pliant while Baze manhandles her until their bodies line up perfectly. When their cunts make first contact, both women moan exultantly.

It’s _wet_—the folds of their cunts squishing together so soft and molten-hot. Baze pants raggedly as her hips move on their own, rolling forward so they slide against each other sloppy and luscious. Chirrut mouth falls open with delight and she smiles in between groans; she starts making a genuine racket when Baze drops one hand to rub her clit in tight little circles.

When it proves too much, Chirrut throws her head back and yells as she comes, gushing over Baze’s cunt as she thrashes underneath her. Baze doesn’t let up, her hand working Chirrut through the aftershocks and her hips grinding into the sticky mess of her cunt. This sets Chirrut off on another orgasm and she rides the waves of pleasure that crash over her with ecstatic moans.

Baze huffs as the pleasure in her groin climbs higher and higher, til Chirrut springs up to kiss her adoringly; she gasps out Chirrut’s name while she trembles, overcome by a toe-curling climax. Chirrut coos sweet words as she peppers kisses all over her face. When she pulls herself back together again, Chirrut metaphorically slaps her composure out of her hands by ducking her head to suck on her tits.

“Keep going,” Chirrut mumbles around one nipple. She bites down none-too-gently and Baze’s clit pulses almost painfully hard. The bedclothes beneath them are soaked. “Keep going, my heart, want to hear you shout my name for the city to hear.”

Baze can do that.


	12. Pet Play/Rimming/Costume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> felching, dom/sub dynamic, this is super fucky i have no excuses

Chirrut lets out a wet gasp when Baze pulls out abruptly, sweat and drool running down his face, violent shudders wracking through his prone body. The little bell on his choker jingles lightly while he heaves for breath, sucking in oxygen like a housefire. The dainty pointed headband he’s wearing has been knocked askew, but is miraculously still nestled upon his head despite the relentless pounding he just took. He mewls, weak and pathetic, when Baze scritches above his tailbone, but raises his ass obediently.

“That’s a good kitten,” Baze rumbles behind him, massaging his lower back. Not to relieve the shaking in his husband’s body, but to enjoy how Chirrut nearly flinches away from the overstimulation, mittened hands pawing at the sheets. But he endures Baze’s proprietary inspection and Baze loves him for that. His hands travel down to Chirrut’s pert, rosy ass, oozing cum down his perineum and the sight has Baze raring to go again, mentally if not physically...yet. At 54 years of age, post Guardianship and Jedha’s occupation and destruction and Scarif and everything else that’s happened since he and Chirrut have joined the Rebel Alliance, his body isn’t as virile as it used to be. But he still has the strength and the stamina and the libido to fuck Chirrut as often as he desires; though, he never expected that he would end up here in a Rebel bunker with his husband and enacting their most perverse fantasies in the down time between Rogue One missions.

The Force works in funny ways.

When Chirrut meekly wags his rear to catch Baze’s wandering attention, he growls and shoves Chirrut back down onto the bed. No doubt Chirrut is lying in his own wet spot, but he can deal with it while Baze drags the flat of his tongue up his husband’s balls to his gaped and leaking hole. Chirrut’s muscles tense up, and from his position between Chirrut’s ass cheeks, Baze can see the tips of his ears go crimson. It amuses him greatly, that Chirrut actually has a molecule of shame left to feel mortified about Baze licking the cum out of his ass.

“I didn’t say you could move,” he warns, nails leaving angry red marks on Chirrut’s hips. “Throwing this ass around like you’re in heat all year long. I clearly need to train you better. _Stay._ If you’re a good kitten, I’ll give you a treat. If you’re a bad kitten, I’ll give you a swatting.”

He swipes his tongue over his Chirrut’s pink swollen rim torturously slow. Chirrut whines high enough to crack glass.

“You want a treat, don’t you? Want a mouthful of cream?” Baze husks out while he kneads Chirrut’s ass so more cum dribbles out.

Chirrut nods his head frantically against the bed. He whimpers when Baze plunges his tongue deep into his hole, fucking him wet and filthy with it. Baze sucks on the rim like he’s trying to steal his soul and Chirrut _yowls_.

“That’s a good kitten.”


	13. Gags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title says it all, shoutout to skinks for the cute idea of chickadee as a pet name

Although Baze prefers to wear the ball gag himself, Chirrut's favorite in their little collection is undoubtedly the spider gag.

Baze had found it unsettling to look at when they’d first acquired it, but Chirrut loves it, the way the steel ring forces his teeth apart, the leather strap digging into the corners of his mouth, the ends of the prongs biting lightly into his skin. The one thing he dislikes is how obstructive it is if he wants Baze to shove his cock down his throat til he chokes, his husband’s girth making it impossible to feed it through the silver ring, but he can’t deny that the frustration adds a certain titillating pleasure to their games.

Such as now, kneeling prim and proper between Baze’s legs with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a perfect, pink landing strip as Baze strokes himself molasses-sweet and slow, the precum-soaked glans hovering over his parted lips. Chirrut has been waiting for what feels like eternity, hands folded together neatly in his nude lap, ignoring his prurient erection despite how lust skitters under his skin. He’s hyperaware of Baze’s eyes raking up and down his body, his gaze palpable and heavy, scouring him down to his needy soul; his nostrils flare and he can practically hear Baze smirk at bringing Chirrut to this state without a single touch.

At the same time, he can feel Baze’s wonder and gratitude through the Force, his aura coruscating around them both. It smooths Chirrut’s antsiness down into a smouldering fire and he bears the intense scrutiny with something close to serenity—albeit more aroused and still a pinch rebellious. Chirrut tilts his chin up; a brow quirks imperiously as if to say “Well?” and Baze chuckles at his impertinence.

The first slap on his tongue startles him, the fat head of his husband's cock leaving the taste of salt and the sting of impact. Chirrut moans, distorted by the gag but unmuffled so it echoes loud and wanton in their room. He beckons for more with curling little flicks of his tongue, brazenly tracing the steel ring wedging his mouth wide with the tip.

"You were so composed a second ago, what happened?" Baze teases.

Chirrut lunges forward in a fit of pique, but Baze catches him with a palm to his forehead and tsks.

“Sit still and keep your tongue out,” he commands, and Chirrut settles back into a proper kneeling position, a sullen pout clear in his eyes.

Baze chuckles again. “Do I have to teach you patience again?”

Chirrut lets out an agitated huff, the angle of his head clearly stating,”As if you could,” the bite of his nails into his own thighs inviting him to “Please do.”

Baze jerks himself off leisurely, working up more precum from his heavy, overclocked balls til it gathers in a wobbling pearl at the head of his cock. He swipes it up to drag it down Chirrut’s tongue and Chirrut closes his eyes to better savor the taste—his eyes fly open when Baze jams his fingers down his throat. He gags at the sudden intrusion; his cock twitches with excitement.

“Because we have all night, chickadee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update after almost an entire year. shaaaaaaaame on me


	14. Distension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> teratophilia aka monsterfucking (THESE ARE KINKTOBER PROMPTS AFTER ALL) + hentai level anatomically impossible belly bulge + body horror bc spooky love making is best love making

It certainly doesn’t compare to a bed, but a stable isn’t the worst place they’ve ever fucked.

Sadly, the only inn available in the backwater village Baze and Chirrut found themselves in after another misadventure had no accomodations for centaurs nor dullahans. And so they’d settled for sleeping amongst the horses in the back. 

Which they were eschewing in favor of having desperate, “We nearly died _again_” sex.

The wallboards rattle behind Baze as Chirrut crowds into him, hiking him up effortlessly so they can press chest to chest, and Baze locks his legs around his husband’s waist-cum-equine shoulders. The heat of his body and the filthy way his husband is claiming his mouth, alternately sucking on his lips and tongue-fucking his throat, is already making him dizzy. The spectral flame wreathing his head glows brighter, throwing erratic shadows around their hay-strewn stall. 

“I need you, Force above and below, I need you more than air, Baze,” Chirrut groans into his ear.

“How do you need me?” Baze asks, his fingers clawing at Chirrut’s biceps.

Chirrut drags his teeth down to a sensitive spot below his earlobe and Baze moans deep from the infernal abyss within his chest. He nips it harshly. “I need to ravage you. Need to fill you up and mark you deep inside, all the way to your heart.”

“Yeah,” Baze gasps out, flickers of ghostfire curling before his mouth . “Yeah, give it to me, I need you too.”

The disrobing and prepping is fast and messy, exactly what they need after a battle gone so very close to wrong. Chirrut plucks Baze’s head from his neck, unwilling to break their liplock, and Baze’s body throws their clothes and a sleeping bag over the hay lining the floor of their stall. It doesn’t provide much cushioning, just enough that Baze’s knees won’t scold him too much tomorrow as he crouches on the ground for Chirrut to mount him.

Chirrut’s cock thumps against his back heavily as it fully unsheathes, the heat like a blazing white brand all along Baze’s spine. Chirrut shifts back until he can resituate his equinehood between Baze’s thighs, and the feeling of his husband’s perfect girth pressed to his front—nearly lifting him off his knees—would make Baze’s heart pound like a wardrum if he still had one. Chirrut moans raggedly into his mouth as he slathers on more oil from the bottle in his pack, using both hands that barely span his circumfrence til he glistens with slick.

Chirrut is practically dancing on his hooves when Baze finally relents and crawls below him until the flared head of Chirrut’s cock kisses against his hole, greedy and wet with the excess oil. Chirrut’s fervent kissing pauses, his breath caught like an undiscovered butterfly in his chest, waiting for the inevitable. 

Baze sighs out, “Go ahead.”

It takes a forceful little nudge, but soon enough the blunt tip breaches his rim and Baze welcomes him in. It’s sublime; the feeling of coming home, being adored and getting his walls stretched wider than humanly possible all at once. The noise that escapes from his mouth, guttural and primitive, a demon breaking free from its chains, is loud enough to shake the rafters of the stable. The horses nicker with fright, but Baze is deaf to everything but the way Chirrut whispers, “You’re so _tight, _my love, so hot. Squeezing me just right, like you were made for me.”

As he slides past the medial ring, Chirrut gasps against his mouth and kicks out with one of his hooves. Were Baze a mortal man, such a move would’ve surely knocked his head clean off his shoulders, but thankfully his head is cradled between Chirrut’s hands, trading kisses with his husband as his body continues to rock up and down the centaur’s shaft. It takes a lifetime and a half, but eventually Chirrut bottoms out, his groin lying flush to Baze’s ass. Baze puts a hand to the outrageous bulge deforming his belly all the way to his diaphragm and his mouth falls open on a cock-drunk groan. Chirrut shivers for a moment, nuzzling behind Baze’s ear as he pulls himself together, before sliding out, adjusting his hips, and thrusting back in at the exact angle for stars to burst before Baze’s eyes. Baze holds on for the ride of his unlife.

He may be a dullahan, but Baze must admit: he far prefers riding horsecock to riding horseback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME ON ME


	15. Overstimulation/Intercrural Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> temple era thighfucking ft. one of the best jokes i've ever written

Chirrut groans, worn out and disbelieving, when he feels Baze’s cock poke into his leg.

“Sorry, sorry,” Baze says, not sounding the least bit sorry at all.

“We have morning prayer tomorrow, Baze,” he complains, limbs splayed akimbo upon their pallet bed, sheets skewed this way and that by their earlier exertions.

Baze nuzzles into Chirrut’s nape, dotting tiny kisses to the knobs of his spine, and Chirrut melts into the bed even further than before, practically dripping off the bed as his lover’s cum drips down his thighs. A big, calloused hand warmer than the foundry that made them that way parts his thighs and Chirrut groans again, despairingly.

“Baze,” Chirrut protests, voice hoarse from the passionate use and abuse of his throat not even an hour ago, “How are you still going?”

Baze soothes him by dragging his scorching tongue over the sensitive arc of his neck, palm caressing the sticky peach fuzz between his legs, and Chirrut’s brain turns to goo, dissolving faster than a spoonful of sugar in the ocean, thoughts swirling into nothingness.

“Can’t help it when you look so divine, like a statue of some mythical hero king, like a juicy altar offering begging to be split open, like the virtue of loveliness made flesh,” he whispers, the carnality of his voice raking down Chirrut’s spine to make every nerve pulse hot, a deep sea predator mesmerizing its prey. “It’s alright, you don’t have to do anything. Just relax, my Chirrut.”

Baze sounds intoxicated as his hands roam over Chirrut’s body, slotting his cock between his smeared golden thighs, and Chirrut can do nothing more than lie starfish-limp upon the bed, docile under Baze’s sweet assault in a way he never is with anyone other than his beloved.

“Is this revenge for last week?” Chirrut mutters under his breath, thinking of the time he woke Baze after a long night of love-making for one more round, his lustful appetite flaring rapacious and unsated despite multiple orgasms. In Chirrut’s defense, he hadn’t meant to wake Baze up, had tried to be respectful towards his lover’s slumber, but humping someone’s ass like a needy bunny isn’t exactly subtle, no matter how slowly you do it.

Baze hums in amusement. “The tables have turned.”

“You’re a monster, Baze Succubus.”

Baze’s laughter fills the whole room with light and Chirrut smiles into his pillow. He squeaks when he feels more lube being poured onto the back of his legs.

“Press your legs together for me, please?” Baze asks breathily.

“Since you’re being so polite,” Chirrut snorts and complies, but he can’t deny that the feeling of Baze’s hard cock throbbing between his thighs is inspiring even in his spent state.

He bites his pillow when Baze retorts by thrusting long and deep in a glorious slide of skin on skin while growling into his ear, “I can be ruder if you want.”

Chirrut whines around the fabric between his teeth. He might be in for an all-nighter.

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo hewwo I'm rockcandyshrike over on Tumblr and Twitter. comments, kudos, flames are all welcome, hit me up with anything ;)


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